


Do you get the message I'm tryna send to you?

by niðavellir (KingPreussen)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Bottom!Wade, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, not a song fic, top!Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 20:31:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14678948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingPreussen/pseuds/ni%C3%B0avellir
Summary: Wilson re-entered the room, took stock of the two blushing faces, Rogers' abject confusion, and Wade's laughter, and sighed. "I really, honestly don't want to know," he said, moving past Peter to get to his seat."Neither do I," Coulson said, and his return signaled the meeting would resume.Peter tried his best to listen, but was more occupied with covering a sheet of notepaper in his and Wade's logos and little hearts.---Five times Wade sang to Peter, and one time Peter sang to Wade.





	Do you get the message I'm tryna send to you?

**Author's Note:**

> i am so excited to share this
> 
> i know im still in the middle of "with great power" but writing non-established relationship fics takes a lot out of me. thanks for your patience!
> 
> this one was a labor of love. i really enjoyed picking the songs (playlist in the end notes) and integrating them. i hope you all like reading the story as much as i liked writing it!

` - 1 - `

The Avengers were, _sometimes_ , capable of having productive meetings with minimal arguments. Unfortunately, productive meetings were unendingly boring.

Peter leaned back in one of the plush computer chairs Stark provided around his unnecessarily shiny chrome table that somehow never got finger prints on it, watching from under half-lidded eyes as Rogers closed the manila folder in front of him and slid it a few inches away. Stark's pained expression at Rogers insisting on using paper rather than StarkTabs made a grin lift the corner of Peter's mouth.

He didn't much feel like smiling otherwise. The Avengers were conference calling with Nat, Clint, Wade, and Coulson, who were on mission somewhere in Spain. Because Coulson was S.H.I.E.L.D. liaison for the three agents with him (Nat and Clint were of course Avengers, and Wade was on, his words, double secret probation with the team) he patched them in on Stark's state-of-the-art conference call machine.

It was just one of the regular Polycom systems but it had a touch screen, so basically, state-of-the-art.

Peter was having a hard time paying attention--and he wasn't even a full Avenger yet, so it wasn't like he was being paid for this--but from what he could gather, whatever was going down in Spain had the risk of getting bigger than one team could handle. Wade denied this, of course, while Coulson gave intel. Clint also denied it but in a more understated way, so he didn't get argued with nearly as much.

At a certain point, Nat cut into Wade and Rogers' back and forth. It was getting mean on both sides and Peter had a hard time not standing up for his boyfriend, but he knew Wade wanted him to be an Avenger more than he wanted to be defended in front of his team. He figured Peter being too close to him would ruin his chances, even though they had been dating for nearly a year and living together for several months. Peter couldn't even assuage his own guilt by pampering Wade when the meeting ended because the merc turned agent was still overseas.

" _I agree with Wade, Steve. I don't think we need an intervention right now_ ," Nat said, voice firm. Peter found himself sitting up and blinking boredom out of his eyes even though he wasn't the one being scolded. " _Any more agents would just alert Hydra of our position._ "

Stark, who looked moments from lying sideways in his chair instead of even pretending to sit up like Peter, loudly crinkled a chip bag as he reached in. "Sounds like we're not needed, Steve. Wouldn't wanna step on any toes, you know? Cause a rift. A civil war, of sorts."

Peter's interest was piqued when Rogers turned to Stark, looking ready to argue, but Coulson interrupted the two of them. " _It's your call then, Avengers. I trust my team's judgement,_ " he said, and the fact that he didn't say " _Wade_ and my team" made something warm bloom in Peter's chest.

He loved that Wade was slowly becoming more integrated in the superhero business, after being repeatedly rejected by both the Avengers and the X-Men. S.H.I.E.L.D. saw his skills and his willingness to work for "the good guys" and took the opportunity to hire him where others had missed out.

After a moment of looking around the table, Rogers said, "Take five," dismissing the team. Peter didn't move from his chair but Stark practically ran past him to sit next to Banner on Peter's other side--Rogers had them separated because they were liable to Experiment when seated within ten feet of each other for any period of time.

Rogers and Barnes got their heads together similarly; Peter watched almost fondly as Barnes' harsh mission-ready expression went soft as he listened to his friend. Wilson clapped his hand on Barnes' shoulder and then left the room, already pulling out his cell phone to make a call.

Peter couldn't tell whether Strike Team Delta or Coulson left whatever room they were sitting in. Wade didn't; Peter heard him clear his throat and shift something near his microphone.

" _Spidey?_ " Wade asked after a period of silence.

"I'm here, Wade," Peter replied with a smile. He missed his boyfriend more than he could even express, having been separated from him for two full weeks now with little idea of when he would be back. At least the sporadic meetings let him know Wade was safe.

" _There he is. You're really quiet today, Webs._ "

Peter rolled his chair closer to the table, pinning his sticky fingertips on the surface to pull himself closer. "Mmhm. Tired. I'm okay." Other than the positively sappy feeling of _want_ he got hearing Wade's voice and not being able to touch him, perfectly okay.

Wade hummed affirmatively. " _Good. Cause, I wanted to tell you…._ " He lowered his voice slightly, like he wanted to speak directly to Peter despite the speaker call. " _Your love is… wonderful. And I~, don't wanna lose you… so, baby--_ "

Peter, a full-blown grin on his face, unsuccessfully tried to hide his beet-red blush behind his hands. He was simultaneously charmed and embarrassed beyond belief. "Babe," he squeaked out.

" _♪Soon as I get home, I'll make it up to you, baby I'll do what I gotta do~♪_ "

Peter put his arms up on the table and buried his face in them, smiling so hard his face hurt. He could hear Stark laughing loudly and openly, and Barnes' quieter snickers, but it didn't matter, not when Wade's own smile rang in his voice. Wade wasn't nearly Faith Evans but he could definitely hold a tune, especially for the song he sang to Peter every time he was away on mission.

Wade only got the second line out before he started to laugh himself, losing the beat. " _Trust me to make it up, baby boy?_ " he asked.

"You're too much Wade," Peter replied from the shelter of his arms, but then he raised his head, looking at the Polycom and wishing Wade's team was stationed somewhere they could stream video as well as audio. "I do trust you, honey. I miss you."

"That's… disgustingly adorable," Stark said, still sitting practically on top of Banner but facing Peter now. Peter didn't think his face would ever return to its normal color.

" _You jelly, Stark?_ " Wade teased. " _You'd think twice the partners would mean twice the romance, but I guess not!_ "

Now it was Banner's turn to go red. "Twice the partners?" Rogers asked, frowning at Stark, and then at Banner. "I thought you and Pepper--"

" _Oops! Wasn't supposed to know that!_ " Wade cackled and Peter could imagine him spinning in his chair, kicking his legs with laughter. " _Hanging with Женщина-Паук and Bird Boy has really upped my spy skillz, huh? And I_ know _y'all could hear that 'z'!_ "

Peter couldn't say he didn't think Banner and Stark had something going on, but Wade's confirmation that it was truly a poly situation piqued Peter's curiosity. He wasn't nearly as good a spy as Wade, however--he couldn't lie to save his life, and had a list of tells longer than his arm--so he didn't say anything. He could ask Wade about it later, in private.

Wilson re-entered the room, took stock of the two blushing faces, Rogers' abject confusion, and Wade's laughter, and sighed. "I really, honestly don't want to know," he said, moving past Peter to get to his seat.

" _Neither do I,_ " Coulson said, and his return signaled the meeting would resume.

Peter tried his best to listen, but was more occupied with covering a sheet of notepaper in his and Wade's logos and little hearts.

` - 2 - `

Even Peter could admit, Power Line was a pretty good name for a wanna-be supervillain. Especially when the physicist turned bad guy didn't just use electricity to wreak havoc in Lower Manhattan: he literally had some kind of power generator of his own making strapped to his back, several lengths of electrical cable sparking and thrashing around him and making it very difficult for Peter to get close enough to take him down.

This baddie decided to throw down in early evening, way before Peter was due to patrol. He was lucky he even had his suit on him during his work day at Stark's lab. He and Wade had a mind-numbingly good time together the night before and Peter wasn't sure _what_ he'd stuffed into his backpack before he went to lab that morning. It could have been a stack of PS4 games and a bag of chocolate chip cookies for all he knew.

Wade's idea to have Peter stand while he--and the way Wade responded when Peter held his wrists down was--well anyway. A great night.

But now Peter and Wade both had to put those feelings on the backburner while Spider-Man and Deadpool took out the villain of the week.

"You're really getting on my _nerves_!" Peter called, backflipping off of one building and shooting a web toward another, ending his freefall in a controlled arc. Power Line just grimaced at his pun and Peter shouted, "Get it? Cause… from a physics perspective, nerves function via electrical impulse?"

"A little bit of a stretch, Webs!" Deadpool contributed unhelpfully from the ground. Peter glanced down while he shot off another web to watch Deadpool wrap a sparking cable around one of his katanas and pull, knocking Power Line off balance. Deadpool swung his other katana upward and cut the cable in two, which sent another shower of sparks over him, looking very impressive and dramatic in the darkening street.

Peter rolled his eyes behind his mask. "Apparently Power Line doesn't have two _neurons_ to rub together!"

"Yep, that's exactly why there was no reaction to your shitty joke!" Deadpool narrowly avoided getting electrocuted, taking cover behind a car parked on the side of the street and sheathing his katanas. Peter landed on top of it and put his hands on his hips, glaring down at Deadpool who's upside-down shit-eating grin was visible through his mask. "I meant, that joke was _electric_ , Spidey?"

The car's alarm went off, startling them both out of their flirty argument. Deadpool jumped up and slid over the hood, and Peter made him an opening by webbing two more cables to the asphalt. An onlooker screamed when another electrical line whipped out over Deadpool and wrapped around Peter instead, yanking him out of the air. It knocked all the breath out of him when it slammed him to the ground but he was more pissed off about the civilians who refused to move to safety.

Deadpool, who had been relying on his swords up to this point, drew one of his guns and fired two quick shots at Peter. The bullets broke the cable and freed him, but the area where he landed--covered in dead leaves and stray paper trash instead of the street where Deadpool was standing--immediately began to smoke when sparks flew.

"If we don't put this dude down soon I'm gonna _blow a fuse_ ," Peter complained, stamping out the areas that looked most in danger of going up in flame. "I'm at _capacity_ for scientists going rogue!" He dodged another cable that attempted to grab him, this one thin enough that he could wrap his entire hand around it. He planted his feet and drew the cable back behind him, and then aimed down the straight line to web the connection between Power Line and the cable.

Something exploded down the street, breaking Peter's concentration. The cable whipped out of his grasp and slithered back to its master while Peter gaped at a smoking truck that _definitely_ wasn't a charred metal shell just a few minutes ago. He would bet any amount of money that Deadpool threw a grenade at it just to "liven things up".

Deadpool was standing on top of what was left of the truck, because where else would he be, holding a severed length of cable like it was a microphone.

" _♪Let's give in to our temptations, every minute with you!♪_ " He held his Deagle out with the other hand, firing at the backpack-like casing Power Line's power lines were emanating from. The man screamed in rage, and probably pain if Deadpool clipped him, but Deadpool was already strutting across the burned out shell of the truck's roof. " _♪Let's exceed our expectations, every moment with you!♪_ "

Peter ran up the side of a deli and used the awning as a launch pad, flipping over Power Line's head and grabbing onto the damaged cable casing. "Deadpool, a little help?" he grunted, unable to think of a good pun in time between avoiding heavy rubber cables and the searing heat of the casing.

Deadpool, despite the rather intricate dance he was playing out on the truck, never took his eyes off Peter. At his signal, he dropped his faux-microphone and drew his other gun. Aiming both at Power Line, he sang, " _♪I need passion like fire, fire, fire, fire!♪_ "

With Peter's strength pulling it off of its mount on Power Line's back, the four shots were enough to completely detach the metal grid casing. Peter dropped it as quickly as possible and webbed Power Line's arms down at his sides, using his momentum to somersault backward over himself and stand at the ready, just in case Power Line had any more tricks up his electrical sleeves.

"Leave it smokin'," Peter breathed. Deadpool jumped off of his makeshift stage and twirled his Deagles around his index fingers before holstering them.

"Knew you couldn't _resist_ me," he said slyly, planting his foot on Power Line's back. At a significant look from Peter he put his foot back on the ground.

` - 3 - `

A thought popped into Peter's head early in the morning and he paused while pulling on the Universita di Roma hoodie that Wade got him during his last trip. It was overlarge, pooling around his hands and drowning him to the hips, just like he liked them. Of course Wade would often ruck up the back and stick his hand in the seat pocket of Peter's jeans, as if he wanted to make sure Peter's _assets_ were all in order even when he couldn't see them.

Peter turned away from the television, which was playing an old Superman cartoon at low volume, to look over at his and Wade's bed. Wade was still dead asleep, curled up around Peter's pillow with the cutest little frown on his forehead. Peter left his jeans on the coffee table and circled the couch to crawl back into bed, placing a gentle hand on Wade's shoulder.

"Hey, babe? Wake up, sleepy head."

Wade's frown deepened for a moment and he grumbled, rolling away from Peter's hand. "Lea' me 'lone," he muttered.

"Sorry to wake you babe, but I have a question." Peter shifted so he was kneeling instead of waiting on all fours and shook Wade a little, now that he knew he was awake enough not to take it as a threat or an emergency. "Waaade…."

" _What?_ " Wade finally cracked an eye open, and seeing Peter in his new favorite sweatshirt made him lean up a bit on his elbows. "Please tell me you're naked under that."

Peter smirked. "Got used to going commando in the suit," he replied in a low voice. Wade's face lit up like Christmas came early, but Peter leaned over him, putting a hand on his cheek to stop him from moving. "Babe, you know how you wanted to come to lab with me?"

Wade blinked, instinctively leaning further into Peter's hand. "Yeah? You already told me I can't come, baby boy, I get it--"

"Honey I said that years ago. Before we were, y'know." Peter bit his lower lip and gazed down at Wade from under his eyelashes. Wade's sweet, flustered squeak threatened to make Peter change his mind about the whole "work" thing and decide to keep Wade in bed all day, but he took a deep breath and continued, "I was just wondering, do you still wanna see what I do? Today's gonna be a slow one, and if you're not already busy, I want to show you."

 _Years ago_ , Wade would have jumped at the opportunity. But now Peter could almost see the thoughts running through his head, his deep brown eyes flicking between Peter's. "Can I wear the mask?" he asked, voice low and hesitant.

Peter smiled softly, stroking from Wade's forehead down to his jaw and then leaning forward to kiss him. "If you want to," he said against Wade's lips. "It's up to you, babe."

Wade nodded, sitting up to kiss Peter again instead of answering. Peter touched Wade's mouth with his tongue and Wade opened up almost immediately, making the kiss wet and hot and definitely not conducive to getting up and going to work. Peter had to take initiative and pull away, pressing more chaste, closed mouth kisses over the bridge of Wade's nose and between his eyes so he knew it wasn't a rejection.

"If you want to come, you have to get dressed. In fifteen minutes we're out the door." Peter slid out of bed again and returned to his jeans, giving Wade a purposeful glimpse to the bare skin of his thighs to hopefully coax him up.

Soon after, he heard Wade moving around near their bed, looking for clothes appropriate for late fall. By the time Peter had his teeth brushed and backpack on, an extra water bottle packed for Wade, his boyfriend was sliding a thin knife into the sheath in his boot. He picked up his mask and looked at it for a long moment, considering. Then he folded it in half and put it in the pocket to his zippered hoodie.

Peter smiled widely at him and held out his hand. "Ready, honey?" Wade grinned back and vaulted the couch to bodily latch onto Peter instead.

* * *

"Christ, Petey, I know you've got legs like a gazelle but you walk a thousand fucking miles an hour," Wade complained breathlessly, following Peter down one of the many long, window-lined hallways in the labs he worked in. They started out walking side by side but Peter was so used to walking alone that he was practically running across the linoleum.

Peter scoffed, but he also slowed down, letting Wade catch up with him. "Can't keep up?" he teased.

"No! I can't!" Wade dramatically pretended to wipe sweat from his forehead. "This is how you have so much fucking stamina, huh? Daily marathons?"

"Sure, Wade. I also eat vegetables more than once a week."

Peter pushed open the glass door to his lab but Wade didn't come in, standing in the hallway with his hands up to his face. "How dare you!" he gasped. "Tacos are full of vegetables! And I don't need vegetables, anyway. You weren't complaining about my stamina last night." Wade wiggled his eyebrows as he walked past and Peter rolled his eyes.

"Yeah right, Mr 'I call myself a power bottom but all I do is lay there and moan'." Peter led the way across the chrome and glass space to his own desk, still covered in papers that he hadn't cleaned up the day before. One of his highlighters was left open and he cursed under his breath, shuffling through the bottles on the shelf above his table for isopropyl alcohol.

"You wanted me to ride you, which meant I was doing most of the work," Wade accused, sitting in Peter's rolling chair and leaning back to cross his arms petulantly over his chest.

"Because you insisted on getting us that memory foam mattress thing." Peter poured some of the alcohol in a beaker and stuck his long-dried highlighter in. "It's like fucking you in quicksand, and my legs were already hurting yesterday. And if I'm remembering correctly, I still made you come twice before I got off."

Wade sputtered ineffectively to himself while Peter smirked, checking the supplies at his desk with quick fingers. Gloves, check. Pipette tips, check. But who stole his 100 microliter pipette…?

"That's not the point!" Wade finally said. Peter nodded absently. "Aren't you supposed to be doing science, smarty pants?"

Peter _was_ supposed to be doing science. "It's more fun to tease you," he said, turning and putting his hands on either side of Wade in the chair. Sitting down, even in a lab bench chair that was so high it basically equated to standing, Wade lost what little height advantage he had over Peter, and the look in his eyes told Peter he knew it.

" _♪I gotta shake it off,♪_ " Wade began under his breath, and Peter laughed outright, pressing his forehead to Wade's shoulder. " _♪Cause the lovin' ain't the same, and you keep on playin' games, like you know I'm here to stay.♪_ "

"Don't get up outta here, babe," Peter said in a fake pleading voice, lifting his head again to see Wade leaning back, arm thrown over his eyes.

Wade lifted his arm, eyes narrowed. " _♪Gotta make that move, find somebody who--♪_ "

"I love and believe in you, Wade, but I don't think you can hit Mariah's whistle notes."

"You don't know what I can and can't do!" Wade set his mouth in an adorable pout that Peter wanted to bite, but before he got the chance Wade wriggled out of the cage of Peter's arms. "I want a coat. Y'all got spare coats?"

Peter watched Wade wander off and huffed fondly, leaning against his lab bench. He wasn't kidding about the quicksand thing, but any opportunity to _have_ Wade was worth it. Maybe they could try a gel mattress instead.

` - 4 - `

The apartment was pitch black when Peter jolted awake at the sound of keys in the front door. He wasn't expecting Wade home for two more days at least, and Wade usually called him to the S.H.I.E.L.D. compound so they could go home together after he finished his AAR.

If anything, Wade would be coming in through the window; anyone coming in through the door was probably a burglar. Peter had the wild urge to get a baseball bat when he could obviously very easily overpower any random criminal with his bare hands.

He sat up quietly in bed, flexing his wrists and pointing them at the door. Light spilled in from the hallway and backlit whoever was coming in--and Peter saw Wade's twin katanas over his shoulders.

"Wade?" Peter called softly, worried now. "Are you okay?"

Wade didn't answer. Peter's "worry" ratcheted up to "panic" and he sat on the edge of their bed, ready to get up and run to Wade if he so much as stumbled.

After closing the door behind himself, Wade began to disarm, dropping his weapons on the floor instead of putting them up like he had gotten in the habit of doing. Peter focused his enhanced night vision on the far corner of their studio, watching Wade's trembling hands move to the zipper down the front of his suit.

Wade's boots made an audible _thump_ on the floor. His suit following was silent. Peter expected him to at least walk over and immediately get into bed, but he moved around the mattress to the wardrobe they had set up on the other side of the room. Wade pulled out a pair of black joggers with the Spider-Man logo on the front pockets Peter bought him a few months back as a "just because" gift and Peter's Roma hoodie and dressed slowly and methodically.

Completely covered, Wade sat at the end of the bed, facing away from Peter. Peter wasn't even sure Wade knew he was awake.

Peter carefully crawled over to his boyfriend and put both hands on his shoulders. "Hi, babe," he murmured, letting his hands slide to Wade's elbows and putting his chin on his shoulder instead. "You don't have to answer if you're not feeling well. But I missed you, and I love you."

Wade leaned back into Peter's hold but didn't respond.

A few quiet minutes passed before Peter's exhaustion began to pull at him again. "Bedtime, Wade," he said softly. Wade allowed himself to be led up the bed to the pillows and tucked under the blankets. Peter spooned behind him like normal, tangling their legs together and kissing the back of Wade's head, even though it was covered by a hood at the moment.

At the first hitch of breath against his chest, Peter wrapped both arms around Wade's chest and pulled him as close as possible. "You're home now, honey, it's okay," he started to babble, trying to drown out the loud, _loud_ voices he knew were probably on their way to screaming in Wade's head. "I'm right here, you're safe--"

Wade lifted his hands and pressed them hard to either side of his head, whimpering. Peter gritted his teeth, just imagining what Wade was hearing at the moment, and then Wade began to speak.

"Baby boy," he sighed, barely audible above Peter's own breath, but Peter was straining to hear anything from him so it sounded like a klaxon. "B-baby boy, you…."

"Yeah, I'm here Wade, it's just me and you at home." Peter smoothed one of his hands down Wade's covered chest, nervous about how hard his heart was beating.

" _♪Baby boy you stay on my mind, fulfil my fantasies….♪_ "

Peter was so relieved he laughed out loud, nuzzling the back of Wade's neck. If he could quiet his head with a catchy song he would probably be asleep in less than an hour, but Peter was prepared to stay awake until he was sure. "I think about you all the time, I see you in my dreams," Peter continued.

Wade slowly lowered his hands from his head to hold Peter's instead, interlacing their fingers. " _♪Baby boy not a day goes by, without my fantasies~♪_ " he sang, but his voice was getting softer and softer. Peter didn't reply, slowly rubbing circles on Wade's hands with his thumbs, and in less than ten minutes Wade was dead to the world.

Peter didn't fall asleep for a long time.

` - 5 - `

Peter's spy skillz left a lot to be desired. Wilson stopped short in the eightieth floor hallway of Stark Tower, standing still while Rogers and Barnes continued walking. When they noticed he wasn't moving they also stopped. "Sam?" Barnes asked, reaching for his sidearm--no pun intended.

"Y'know, falcons eat spiders in the wild."

Peter waited a moment, and then peeked his head out from around the corner. "I don't think that's true, Mr Wilson. A lot of spiders are pretty poisonous."

Rogers frowned at Peter but thankfully wasn't giving him his Disappointed Hero look. Peter didn't know if he could take that, as early in the morning as it was. "How long were you following us, Peter?"

"And it's just Sam," Wilson said with a grin. "Come on, kid, you're embarrassing us."

Peter obediently trotted over to the group of three men, all much taller and more muscular than him. He _didn't_ attempt to stand taller or puff out his chest, because he'd _definitely_ look like an idiot if he did. "Sorry, Mr--Sam. I just, I really like watching you all train, but I didn't want to impose--"

"It's no imposition," Barnes interrupted. He slung his non-metal arm around Peter's shoulders and pulled him forward, continuing their walk to the training rooms. "You're quick, right? Why don't you train with us? You'd probably pose a challenge, unlike Stevie." Rogers shouldered Barnes playfully, which made Peter's heart skip in his chest, but he didn't do anything embarrassing like yell in fear.

Wilson chuckled from Peter's other side. "You do go easy on him, Steve. I know you two are 'going steady' but--"

"We _aren't_ dating," Rogers said, with the frustration of someone who has said the same sentence several times in the last few days. Barnes glanced over at Peter and winked, which made him snort so hard he was pretty sure he had brain damage.

"Oh, there you are!" Peter turned as much as he could in Barnes' hold to see Wade in full costume running up to the four of them. "Petey. Spangles, Sparkles, uh… Winged-One."

Peter ducked under Barnes' arm. "What's up, Wade?" he asked, automatically searching his boyfriend for any sign of injury.

Wade did a little twirl in place, showing Peter he was injury free, and then latched onto Peter like a… well, like a spider. "Tin Man says I can't borrow a StarkJet and I need you to convince him for me," he said, and Peter could tell that he was being perfectly serious.

Peter sighed, resting his hands on Wade's hips above his belt and looking up into the white eyes of his mask. "What do you need a StarkJet for?"

How Wade managed to become the best mercenary on earth was lost on Peter. The man looked away to lie when he was _wearing his mask_. "Nothin', promise! Just some general… usage."

Peter took a step closer without lifting his hands. "Wade," he said in a low, warning voice that he _knew_ Wade wasn't used to hearing outside their bedroom.

The shiver that ran through Wade was almost enough to make Peter regret using that tone. Almost. "Uh, joyride?" He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet as if he couldn't stand still. "I'll bring it right back!"

"It's not in my hands, babe, Stark doesn't listen to me any more than he listens to you," Peter said apologetically. Then he looped his index fingers into Wade's belt and yanked him forward, standing on his toes to whisper in Wade's ear. "Two floors up from the penthouse, take the stairs up from the floor below. The third window on the left is unlocked. Climb down and there should be a jet on the landing pad."

Wade pulled back a bit. "I--Pete--"

Peter smiled fondly at him, lifting a hand from Wade's side to gently hold his jaw and kissing his cheek over the mask. "Go on," he said indulgently.

"Love you!" Wade called, already halfway down the hallway and running like he was being chased. Peter shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

A low whistle sounded behind him. "Wow, kid," Wilson said.

Peter turned around, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "I… thought you left," he said lamely. 

"You don't have to act like _we're_ the scary ones." Barnes looked Peter up and down, like he was seeing him for the first time all over again. "I've never seen Wade snap to attention like that."

Even Rogers looked impressed. "I kind of assumed he was… the more commanding one in your relationship. Since he's older than you," he hurried to clarify, like Peter didn't know Wade was larger and taller and more physically imposing than he was.

Peter shrugged, slipping his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie. "There's a lot you don't know about me. Weren't we gonna train?"

* * *

By lunch, Peter was freshly showered and uncomfortably sore, devouring a large pepperoni pizza on his own in the team common room. He heard the soft whirring of a jet touching down just outside, and then Wade came in the penthouse door that Peter unlocked for him ahead of time.

" _♪I just want somebody-body, to treat me like somebody-body,♪_ " Wade was singing to himself, a satisfied spring in his step. He sat on the arm of the couch and leaned backward into Peter's lap, cutting him off from the pizza box on the coffee table. " _♪Won't be like everybody-body,♪_ " he continued, stretching languorously over Peter's thighs. " _♪All you gotta do is love me for me, babe~♪_ "

"I do love you. Want pizza?" Peter asked, halfway through a bite of the seventh slice.

"Pineapple?"

Peter stuck his tongue out. "Nasty. How was your trip?" He tossed his half-eaten pizza slice back into the box and shifted so Wade was settled more against his stomach than his legs, ready to listen to Wade ramble for anywhere from ten minutes to an hour. Funnily enough, Peter wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

` - +1 - `

For the first time Peter could remember, he was kidnapped by people who maybe actually knew what they were doing.

First, they separated him and Deadpool instead of locking them in the same room. He knew for a fact that Wade was taken with him because the kidnappers killed him before putting a bag over Peter's head and shoving him in the back of a van. It was execution style, one shot to the back of the head, and the event would be burned into the back of Peter's eyelids for months.

Second, Peter was drugged up to his eyes. Luckily they _weren't_ smart enough to think to account for an increased metabolism, because he could feel himself slowly regaining control of his fingers and toes, but his head was floating approximately three feet above the rest of his seated body.

Third, Peter, at least, wasn't alone. There were four guards posted to… wherever he was being held, two at either side of him and two at the dark blue door across the otherwise empty room from him. They were all armed with assault rifles but they were holding them with their fingers on the triggers, an obvious sign that they were amateurs.

Cold air swirled over his head, sending locks of dark brown hair into his eyes and thankfully shadowing the intense, white overhead light. So they had unmasked him as well, in front of all the lackeys.

At least he was still wearing the rest of his suit--one memorable kidnapping left him in just a pair of underwear that the kidnappers dressed him in when they realized he was totally naked under his suit. He still prayed every night that they were clean.

Peter waited in bored silence for several minutes, waiting for the drug to wear off entirely. When he could make a fist that didn't shake with both hands he took a deep breath and slowly, quietly snapped the zip ties around his wrists. Then he hooked his (untied!!) left ankle around the leg of the metal chair his kidnappers had strapped him to and counted down from three in his head.

On one, without a normal, eager-to-fight quip, Peter shifted his weight to the right of the chair and swung it up and around on his way down, knocking the guard right beside him to the ground. His weapon went off, spraying the wall by the door and startling the two lackeys over there enough that Peter had time to grab the chair and throw it toward one of them. He swept his leg underneath the other guard beside him, ducking under the barrel of his gun as he fell.

The final guard was pointing his gun right at Peter as he stood, but probably wasn't expecting the level of awareness Peter was working with after the tranq shot. Peter feigned dropping to the floor and instead launched himself toward the ceiling, doing a handspring into the guard's chest. His head hit the wall with a crack and he also slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Peter didn't take a moment to catch his breath. He opened the blue door, figuring anyone out there would have heard the commotion inside and rushed in already, and stepped out into an empty concrete hallway. He randomly chose to run right and, about a hundred feet down the hall, found another blue door.

Peter had two options. Either he left the door and tried to find a way out so he could call backup, or he went in and took down whoever was inside himself. If Wade was also in there, Peter would definitely appreciate _not_ seeing him die again, if he had even regenerated by now.

He took a careful step forward and pressed his ear to the door, listening for movement or breathing. The room was silent, so he grabbed the metal lip that served as a handle and pulled the door open.

"Wade?" he asked into the similarly hospital-lit concrete room. A red-clad figure lying in a heap in one of the far corners didn't respond. Peter swallowed hard and closed the door behind himself before walking further into the room. "W-Wade?"

The figure was silent. Peter tried not to panic as he walked over to it, but at the sight of Wade's still masked face with a round, gore-red hole in the middle, he felt close to throwing up. He fell to his knees beside Wade and pulled him--his _corpse_ \--into his arms, removing his mask and staring down into Wade's unseeing eyes.

Peter frantically wracked his brain for Wade's respawn time from headshots. He couldn't remember one in recent memory, just the odd dismembering or gut shot that coagulated before it could end in death. When was the last time Peter saw Wade die?

He got the sudden, ripping urge to make every one of their kidnappers kneel like they forced Wade to and put a bullet in the back of each of their heads. He was sure none of them would get up again.

Movement jolted Peter from his morbid thoughts. Wade's heart gave one heavy _thump_ , and then another, and then more and more rapid until he inhaled with a wet, pained sound.

"Oh god," Peter whimpered, feeling a hot tear race down his cheek. Of course Wade was alive, no way these chucklefucks had the tech to _kill_ him, but the irrational, fear driven part of Peter's brain had almost convinced him Wade wasn't coming back. He didn't want to cry, not here while they were still captured, but Wade's gorgeous brown eyes were beginning to regain their color and he was so _relieved_.

While Wade's heart and lungs were working, apparently his brain wasn't healed enough to recognize Peter. He made a desperate, wounded sound, trying to use his uncooperative arms to push Peter away, which only made Peter cry harder.

"Honey, it's me, it's Peter! Don't fight," he begged desperately, still cradling Wade's upper body against his chest. Peter lifted a hand to the back of Wade's head, probably getting blood and gore all over himself, but that didn't matter. What mattered was shifting Wade so his face was pressed against Peter's neck.

And then Peter took a shaky breath of his own. " _♪When we first met,♪_ " he sang softly, voice cracking in the middle. He wasn't nearly as good a singer as Wade but that didn't matter, it was just the two of them. " _♪I was surprised to get, that feeling, that feeling, the kind that don't wash away with soap.♪_ "

Wade stopped struggling. His breath was coming more evenly and his hands were clutching at Peter instead of pushing him away. He moaned something that could have been Peter's name but Peter shushed him and pressed a kiss to his temple.

" _♪So sweet to me, the kind of feeling I need, to get me through my darkest days. For you, I prayed.♪_ "

Peter heard a rush of footsteps approaching their hallway, boots on metal stairs. He sniffled and wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his suit but didn't put Wade down just yet. " _♪What you do is crazy, baby,♪_ " he continued to sing, laughing wetly. " _♪Not like you belong in an asylum--crazy baby.♪_ "

"Like the sun in the morning and the moon at night?" Wade rasped. Peter laughed again but it quickly turned into a sob.

"I can't tell who's coming," he managed to whisper. The footsteps were closer now, and there was a metallic _bang_ as they kicked open the door to the room Peter was trapped in before. "I won't let them hurt you again."

Wade nodded into Peter's collarbone. "Sounds like Spangles, to me," he murmured back.

Peter listened more carefully. Now he could hear Rogers' voice, shouting orders, and the second wave of relief that washed over him threatened to make him start crying again. "Thank fuck." Peter shifted Wade to sit up a bit more without letting go of him. "Get used to this, babe, cause I'm not letting go of you for the next week."

"A hardship," Wade slurred sarcastically and looked up at Peter, a lopsided grin pulling at his scarred lips. Peter felt like he was falling in love all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> 1: [Soon As I Get Home - Faith Evans](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u-_GyHhsg30)
> 
> 2: [Leave It Smokin' - Tamia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-PgPyXtGn9w)
> 
> 3: [Shake It Off - Mariah Carey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9p7nW7_Yl30)
> 
> 4: [Baby Boy - Beyonce ft Sean Paul](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qord25yqmCE)
> 
> 5: [Treat Me Like Somebody - Tink](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7HuiYBtoIhE)
> 
> +1: [Not Like Crazy - Jill Scott](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SzOFmS_8CKk)


End file.
